turning point - the one at which
there's no where left to turn.
For all the world burns in man's
rebellion with the nature of it all.
turned to dust once
towering up to meet the clear blue sky.
Squared city blocks made rounded
by a heat to oft' confounded
by their needs.
girl-child, small and innocent,
is left to stand alone amid the dust.
For there was no one left
to trust or lead her on.
home from school,
she reached the corner.
Suddenly, the vapor was complete.
Purest white - the greatest feel
of emptiness e'er known.
nature had deserted her somehow.
Up there, where trees should bow
and bleed their leaves into the wind,
an empty sky looked back into her eyes.
before she ever had a chance
to glean its worth. Torn apart by minds
that could not feel. While all that she
had thought as real abandoned living form.
Becoming dust within the wind. All because
the lust of men could never be controlled.
still, she stood and took it in.
Wondering what it had meant, and
might yet mean again. Not even
halfway there, the bridge had broken.
Nothing more and no one else
old and potent legacy of human
fear moved unto her from far into the near.
Within the dust, she saw it clear.
Defined by robes of flowing white.
The dust of their great terror lingered
on in yet another ghostly form.
there, within a memory, of future
life and ancient days, she reached a peak
so high, she thought she'd fall. While,
rising from the dust, those acid voices
of the past began to call.
rage and screaming pain.
The lightning struck the weathervane.
Sizzling into the ground again.
Blunted by a cosmic force.
Leading her unto the Source
of light that weeps its way into
night shadows and the early morning dew.
Hues of rainbow colors laid the course.
as if stricken by a blow.
The candlelight no more than just a glow.
She found it there, the turning point,
and drifted back into her life again...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .